The Preamble: Beginning of a Love Affair with Bhutan through a Screen

Most people fall in love with a person, I fell in love with a cup of tea of Bhutan, during a virtual travel session.

It was late 2020, during a PATA virtual tourism session, that I first saw the steam rising from a cup of Suja (Butter Tea). I didn’t just want the tea; I wanted the stillness it represented, the vibrance and beaty of the culture that thrives in between the barriers of Himalayan hills.

It took four years and a detour through Thailand in early 2024 to finally reach those mountains, but the seed was planted.

Last December, I was at a breaking point. In the corporate marketing world, if you aren’t a “fox,” you’re often treated as prey. When you are in a place with few people who label and corner you, dragging down your self-confidence into a dark “underworld.” That was the story that pushed me on to edge to run away. I was suffocating under unnecessary judgments. I didn’t just need a vacation; I needed an exorcism of the corporate ghost. I decided to test fate, or not sure if I was trying to get myself killed at that point considering the capacity my lungs can handle.

I booked a solo slot on a Thrillophilia group trip just like that. I know my objective, definitely not going there to make friends or network; I went to see if the version of me that existed before the “labels” was still alive.

The Logistics: Bhutan Travel Cost and Planning

As a marketing core person and being a thrifty kid, I live for strategy. While I let the agency handle the ground accommodation and tour packaging from Bagdogra (around ₹37,510), I took total control of my travel from Chennai. Booking my own flights via Cleartrip for ₹22K, a significantly better deal than the agency suggested, felt like a victory. I was satisfactory with the stay, the van which they call, yeah… Coaster. I was okay with it. I’d say the stays are much better than what our office chugs down at me during Market visits.

The journey truly began at the border in Phuentsholing. For Indians traveling to Bhutan, the Phuentsholing immigration process is a marathon of patience – a 24-hour wait that is tedious to the point of exhaustion. But here was the first lesson: there is a difference between a Tourist and a Traveller. A tourist views local beliefs as an amusement. A traveller, a true solivagant or enthusiast – respects the individuality of a culture and become a Romen when she/he is in Rome. I remembered friends who mocked Buddhist temples in the past; honestly, those guys are nuts. Why visit a holy place just to belittle the faith of others?

Wisdom from the Land of the Thunder Dragon (Druk)

The Bhutanese possess a level of confidence that is, frankly, peak goals. My guides, Kinley and Yeshi, spoke in sentences that felt like they should be etched in stone. “We didn’t trade our happiness for GDP,” they told us. They are travel guides, but in their country, they are treated as equals. There is no “servant” culture here; there is only mutual respect and decorum.

In Paro, a day before leaving, I found a sanctuary at the Mountain Cafe. There, I met a 50-year-old man named Rinchen (or perhaps Rinzin – the names blend into the peace of the morning). We spoke for 20 minutes about Japan, the hydroelectric plants that power their nation, and their deep, unwavering love for the King and the Royal Family. They rely on tourism and water, and they are satisfied. “We are satisfied, so we are happy,” he said. It sounds simple, but for someone coming from a world of “more, faster, better,” it was revolutionary.

Or should I tell you about the insightful conversation had with – a random Buddhist monk, the couples in the view point, the Japanese uncle who stopped next to me to stare at the old tree along with me, or the girl from Bangalore who told me I should become selfish to survive this world.

You can roam the streets of Paro or Thimphu at night as a solo woman, and you are met with safety. It’s a culture where the gaze is respectful, not predatory. And out of context but yeah the men of Bhutan are remarkably handsome and well-built. But their real beauty lies in their restraint. They don’t oogle.

The women and kids in Bhutan have cheeks that are naturally flamed with pink. Their hair is silky smooth. When you go to Bhutan, I don’t know if it’s because of the water or something, your hair gets straight as well.

The “Problem Child” and the Coimbatore Connection

The Bhutanese possess a peak level of confidence. My guides, Kinley and Yeshi, were the backbone of the trip. In a “small world” twist, I found out Kinley actually studied in Coimbatore! It felt like a slice of home in the middle of the Himalayas.

However, I have to admit—I was a bit of a “problem child.” Between my Pulmonary Fibrosis making me the slowest climber (even the seniors were outpacing me!) and my refusal to recharge my local Bhutanese SIM, poor Kinley and Yeshi spent half the trip just trying to locate me. I wasn’t trying to be difficult; I was just so deep in my “recharge” bubble that the outside world, and its cellular signals, didn’t seem to matter.

The Thrillophilia Cast of Characters: From Comfort to Chaos

A group trip is only as good as the people you’re stuck in a bus with. Thrillophilia messed us up and did good all at same time. I found a surprising “comfort place” in a family from Hyderabad. With two daughters, one working and one in college, they felt like a safe harbor for my weary mind. I also met inspiring solo-traveling women who had trekked so much they made my “beginning of the story” feel like an epic prologue.

Then, there was the chaos. We had a couple from Delhi where the wife was… a lot. During river rafting in the turquoise Himalayan waters, she almost made us drown because she had to have the perfect photo. Girl, seriously? The secondhand embarrassment was real. We also had some guys from Delhi who were consistently disrespectful to the guides, only to be rightfully slammed by Kinley’s sharp Bhutanese wit. And the brother, sister duo who made me wish – “it would have been nice if my brother has come with me”.

And who could forget Amir Uncle? Every group trip has one, the “drunken old bugger” from whom everyone instinctively ran. When we saw him coming, we knew a “problem” was about to arise. And the young gang with random flirting happening with just one guy around (shoutout to the one guy holding his own there) and the general holiday crowd, it was a circus of human nature.

The “Fate vs. Breath” Showdown

Now, let’s talk about the physical stakes. I went to Bhutan with a serious complication: Pulmonary Fibrosis. Taking on the Himalayas with compromised lungs is what some call “brave” and others call “a direct challenge to the universe.” It was a “let’s test fate, I’m ready to risk it all” kind of trip.

The temperature dropped to -10°C. For a girl from Chennai, this was a biological shock. My roommate, Shreyoshi from Kolkata, and I survived by filling hot water bags and hugging them like they were long-lost relatives throughout the night. Our group was a mix, mostly youngsters, which was refreshing. I met two amazing sisters and a free-spirited niece who became my silent cheerleaders during the moments my breath failed me.

Then came the Tiger’s Nest (Paro Taktsang) trek. For many, it’s a hike for the ‘gram. For me, it was a confrontation with my own mortality. Every step toward that monastery clinging to the cliffside was a negotiation. I didn’t make it into the monastery itself; the stairs were a bridge too far for my lungs this time. But I reached the stunning viewpoint.

Looking at that temple, I realised that everyone else’s “luck” at having healthy lungs didn’t diminish my achievement. I had climbed a mountain with half the air of everyone else. I shed the prison of seeking validation. I stopped apologising for my limitations and started celebrating my grit. I accepted myself, scars, fibrosis, and all.

We celebrated with a Hot Stone Bath. Imagine sliding into a wooden tub of herbal-infused water, heated by glowing Himalayan stones dropped into an extension of the tub. It detoxifies, gives you good skin health… as per their claims. It was the best hour of my life. I’ll tell you by the end of this year if it cured my lungs, but it certainly cured my spirit.

Cultural Immersion: Kira, Toego, and Local Flavors

One of the highlights was trying on the local Bhutanese attire: the Kira and Toego. I’m not being biased when I say it looked amazing on me. There is something about the structure of the traditional dress that makes you feel both grounded and regal.

We explored the culinary heart of Bhutan, too. The menu is often consistent, but the soul in the cooking varies. I became a connoisseur of Datshi (cheese): Ema Datshi (spicy chilies!), Kewa Datshi (potato), and Shamu Datshi (mushroom), the Red Rice and the salted cake they gave us for Christmas. And, of course, the Suja. Unfortunately, I failed miserably at taking photos of the food because I was too busy eating it. Priority shift, I’d say.

The Gender of Water and the Soul

In Punakha, we saw the Mo Chhu (Female River) and Pho Chhu (Male River). The female is calm; the male is aggressive. I had to laugh, does the patriarchy really think women can’t be aggressive? Women are like storm, except that we don’t act reckless and reasonless.

We visited the Giant Buddha Dordenma. We saw the Takin, a goat-cow hybrid with a weird backstory. I even spotted the rare Blue Poppy. Through it all, I used my “cheat code”: a specific playlist that I played during the long bus rides. Now, that music is a portal that takes me back to the peaks whenever the Chennai Metro feels too crowded.

Leaving My Heart in Phuentsholing

The most profound moment happened on my final night. I roamed Phuentsholing alone, ate momos, and found a temple in the park. I joined the locals circling the Buddha, chanting and praying. Spent 3 hours exploring in and out, aimlessly getting lost and finding myself… It was so fun. I love doing this wherever I go.

I realized I didn’t want to destroy the kindness inside me. I wanted to keep my “inner child” alive. I refused to let go of that part of myself just to survive the “leeches” of the world. I handed my inner child over to Buddha. “Keep her safe,” I whispered. “I’m leaving her here in the Land of Happiness. I’ll come back for her when I’ve built a world where she is allowed to be soft again.” I returned to Chennai with a bag of magnets and a soul that felt like a life-filled tree.

The Solivagant’s Cheat Code

I returned to Chennai with a bag of magnets and a soul that felt like a life-filled tree. I have a “cheat code” now: during the long, scenic bus rides through the Himalayas, I played a specific playlist. I let the music and the views fuse together. Now, when the Chennai Metro is too loud, I play that playlist. When the corporate labels start to feel heavy again, I play it too. It takes me back to the -10°C peaks, and suddenly, I can breathe again. Also, try to wear warm clothes and never compromise on your fashion, a modest one though. Also, a good trekking shoe is a must. I got my first pair of Sketchers shoes at a good discounted price for this trip’s sake.

Bhutan Travel FAQ for Indians

• What documents are required for Bhutan? You MUST carry your Passport or Voter ID. Bhutan does NOT accept Aadhar, PAN, or driving licenses. If using a Voter ID, bring 4-5 passport-sized photos.
• Is Bhutan safe for solo female travelers? 10/10. Solo women are incredibly safe. The men are handsome, well-built, and exceptionally respectful, good for your eyes. he.he..he…
• What is the best time to visit Bhutan? I went in December. It was 0°C-10°C and crowded due to the holidays, but the views were crystal clear. Spring or Summer offers a better time to reach the monastery at Tiger’s Nest. You can enjoy a flower-filled hill view. It’s also a great time to experience a bit of the local festival.
• What is the currency in Bhutan? They use the Ngultrum, but Indian Rupees (INR) are widely accepted (though ₹500 notes can sometimes be tricky).
• How do I get a Bhutan SIM card? You can get one at the border in Phuentsholing. Just remember to recharge it so your guides don’t lose you!
• What should I pack? For winter, at least two proper thermal layers, a wind-resistant jacket, and a hot water bag for the nights. Moisturizer, fosho! without fail. Vaseline’s cloudsoft is amazing moisturizer. And lip balm, I carried hyphen lip balm. Worked well.

The journey back to Chennai felt different. As the plane touched down and the familiar humidity of home wrapped around me, I realized that my baggage was lighter, even though it was stuffed with magnets and local tea. The labels that once felt like a life sentence: decided to finish it off in steepness of the underworld, as I’ve seen the peaks. I’ve stood at -10°C and realized that my kindness isn’t a weakness, it’s a strength. I left my inner child in the safe hands of the Buddha, but I brought back the woman brave enough to fight for her. Sometimes, you have to risk your breath just to remember how to breathe. Its been months now, my pov of things have changed drastically, I feel much more happier and peacefull than I was till Dec 19th.

So, yes, if you are planning to go to Bhutan from Chennai, or from anywhere and if you have any questions please feel free to ask, meanwhile, alot more videos and photos are uploaded in my Insta, don’t forget to drop by there as well…

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